


Hold My Hand

by moonstxne



Series: River [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Paranoia, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstxne/pseuds/moonstxne
Summary: He stares at the kids around him, every personality crashing and pulling to make one giant hurricane. He stands in the middle of it all, the eye of the storm, and wonders what happened.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Series: River [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727041
Kudos: 50





	Hold My Hand

Kokichi sits on his bed, a nearly empty pen dangling from his fingers. He chews at his lip, and keeps chewing until he tastes blood. He doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know the fluorescent pink stands stark against his skin. 

He ignores it.

His head aches, right where he slammed his skull into the floor. A steady pain that only worsens with each blink. He’s tempted to lay down and fall asleep. ~~Maybe he won’t wake up again.~~

He ignores that too.

His whiteboard stands in front of him, proud and unassuming. Scribbles and notes are written in his messy handwriting, a slow descent into nonsense. ~~Madness.~~ He blinks again and erases half of it.

He wonders if this is what insanity feels like.

The notes range from his classmates’ personalities to who’s most likely to kill. Smiling pictures stare at him with childish doodles next to them. 

The sudden urge to flip the board hits him like a wave. Kokichi caps the pen before throwing it at the wall as hard as he can. It bounces off, landing on the floor with barely any noise. The feeling in his chest lingers and burns.

His breathing gets faster with each twitch of his finger. Hysterical laughter bubbles up in his throat because, wow, isn’t this pathetic. 

The pain in his head is getting worse, vision finally going blurry. He swallows the lump in his throat and pushes down frustrated tears. Getting upset won’t help his situation, crying won’t get them out of this stupid fucking killing game.

He takes a deep breath, grabs a new pen, and tries again.

——

It’s after the second trial that he locks himself in his bathroom. His grip on the sink turns his knuckles white, pale skin blending in with porcelain. 

Kokichi stares into his reflection, squints his eyes, and stares a little harder.

There are bags under his eyes, irises dull and afraid. A small voice in the back of his head says that someone’s watching. There’s already surveillance everywhere else, what’s stopping Monokuma from putting cameras in his room?

Kokichi rubs at his eyes until he sees spots.

Maybe if he looks long enough, he can find the reason he’s still alive.

——

Meal times are tense and uncomfortable. His classmates congregate into little groups, silent conversations filling the cafeteria. Sometimes Kokichi takes a not-so empty seat, acknowledging the open glares around him and ignoring them. Other times he doesn’t eat at all.

He pretends not to notice how thin he’s getting.

Before, when his mind wasn’t slipping through his fingers like water, before he killed Gonta and Iruma, before he accepted his role as the villain, Kokichi would talk with the Detective after lunch. Lies and truths would sit on his tongue all the same, each one a poison of choice. 

Kokichi would look at Saihara and hope he’d figure out which was which.

Either way, it doesn’t matter to Kokichi.

~~That’s a lie.~~

——

He slowly wonders when his favorite color turned to gold. 

——

It’s frighteningly easy to forget about Gonta. It’s even easier to remember him.

He was a fool. He was an idiot. He was a fucking dumbass who couldn’t tell left from right.

~~He was kind.~~

He shakes his head to get rid of unwanted thoughts, and gets back to planning.

——

Kokichi can pinpoint with absolute clarity when Saihara’s eyes turned cold and angry. Disgust written on his face, his lip curled up at the sight of the renowned liar.

His expression is bitter, and Kokichi mirrors it with his own.

He writes and writes and writes, frantic and hurried. He practices his smiles in the mirror, ignores how it cuts into his face like glass. He repeats his own lies so many times that he’s forced to believe them.

He refuses to think about the words said to him hours ago.

——

~~“You’re alone, Kokichi, and you always will be.”~~


End file.
